


Distracted

by dragongoats



Series: Tales of Thedas [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongoats/pseuds/dragongoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor finds herself fascinated by Cullen's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distracted

He's speaking.

His hands are moving animatedly, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. He's reporting on the progress of his soldiers training. 

He's reporting on the impressive dedication and commitment he has for their cause and all she can focus on is his hands. 

She watches the supple, worn brown leather covering long sturdy fingers. How they grip the hilt of his blade at his waist—leather creaking, puling taut, then relaxing— when Josephine mentions appeasing nobles. How his index finger taps idly while he waits for her to respond to his inquiry—.

*

The common area is full and busy, there's joy in the air, Dorian makes a cheeky remark and he laughs. His hands holding a cup to his lips, mid-sip, face turning up into a genuine smile. His hand smacking the table as he doubles over.

*

His hands run through his neatly styled, curling hair, ruffling it— rubbing his neck, easing the tension. He feels the exhaustion and cold throughout his entire body. His hands clench idly at his side, he paces the campsite, kicking up the snow at his feet.

*

He's standing over paperwork, arms folded, fingers lightly tapping his lips, lost in thought.

The Inquisitor asks him a question, "Perhaps they are done for the day?" His hands leaving his face and soon wrapping around her instead, running along her sides, cupping her face, pulling her closer.

*

She's pulling off his gloves, the first thing she removes when they climb onto his desk. She pulls each finger out slowly, then the entire glove. She kisses each tip and knuckle, licking the lengths and savouring the rough, calloused skin. 

She places each palm on her heated flesh, she shivers when he squeezes back.

 

*

His hands grip her shoulders, he keeps her close. A prayer escapes his lips, tears fall from her eyes. He begs her to be safe. His hands caress her back, desperately clinging.

*

He's holding her hand in his. 

His bare hands. 

He runs his thumb along her knuckles and kisses her wrist. He's down on on one knee, he asks her, gently, honestly. "Marry me?"

She pulls him to her, their hands clasping together, a response and a smile on her lips.

She looks at all of him, his face is so open, beautiful. And he's hers.


End file.
